No Longer
by Larael
Summary: As the men of Rohan, Aragorn amongst them, leave for Dunharrow, Éowyn contemplates her own role in the coming fray and makes the decision to follow her heart. ÉowynxAragorn one-sided. Oneshot.


**Authoress' Note:** It's been some time since I submitted something to this section. I wrote this for a contest on the forum, and although I didn't do as well as I thought I would I am very satisfied with how this piece turned out. The requirement was to write a scene from the LotR books/movies between 100 and 700 words from a different characters point of view. I chose to write as Éowyn as Merry, Théoden, Éomer, and Aragorn ride toward Dunharrow. I studied this passage from the book in order to imitate (in the best sense) Tolkien's style of dialogue and prose, and I hope it comes across well enough. Enjoy!

**No Longer**

Far over the plain Eówyn saw the glitter of the spears of the Eorlingas, her king and lord amongst them, as she stood still, alone before the doors of the silent house. Far away, in the East, it seemed to her that dark clouds were gathering, a sleepless malice enveloping a people crying out for aide. Her uncle would go to them, and Aragorn as well, for he is a Dúnedain and aspires for greatness.

It is he that she longs to follow. It was he who, she hoped, would lead her to the glories of the battlefield. Thus she would truly be Shieldmaiden, in name and in deed. The brief vision faded before her as the last of the gleaming spears and shields disappeared behind the darkening hills.

She turned on her heel then, withdrawing into the pervading loneliness of the great hall where not a day earlier she had offered the cup to her lord Aragorn in the aftermath of the triumph of Helm's Deep. As she had taken the goblet from his lips she said: "I would go with you, Aragorn. I would ride with you into battle just as your men do. Not because they seek triumph, but because they love you and would follow you till the end of days."

He had looked upon her then with a sorrowful brow and eyes that spoke of a deep sympathy. This troubled her greatly, even more so when he spoke in hushed tones as though she were a child: "Your duty is with your people."

"Too often have I heard of duty!" she had cried. "But am I not a Shieldmaiden? May I not now spend my life as I will?"

Suddenly grave at her response, Aragorn had turned from her with nothing left to say between them. Now he was gone, and she is alone in her cage longing for renown that would at least allow her to capture her Dúnedain's heart. Eówyn lowered herself into the seat of the king, still feeling distraught at being left behind. Did Aragorn not know of her love for him? Did he not understand that one day she longed to be his queen?

A change came over her at the thought, like a cloud passing over the sun eliminating its warmth and leaving something pale and cold in its place. Eówyn shivered violently, her thoughts growing dim with each passing second. If he would not have her what point was there to the ever-darkening world in which she lived? She would have to die then, she concluded. Never had the Golden Hall felt less warm than in that moment when hope left her heart as swiftly as the men of Rohan had departed Edoras.

Abruptly Eówyn stood, her heart beating wildly in her breast at the thought of what she must do. She steadied herself, using every ounce of her will to walk in the direction of the armoury where she fitted herself with chainmail and helmet, sword and shield. Wielding these newfound burdens she went to the stables, empty now that the men were gone, and led her horse, Windfola, out into the waning light.

Mounting the grey animal, she turned her eyes to the East, toward the White Mountains, and determined that she had not lost too much time. It would be simple to slip in amongst the men camped there waiting the dawn. Pulling down her helmet she spurred Windfola into action, galloping out of the city gates and down through the hillocks of Simbelmynë that heralded her path to Dunharrow. As she rode she steeled herself so that whoever looked upon her would no longer see Eówyn, the White Lady, but rather Dernhelm, a Rider of Rohan.


End file.
